Coming Out
by GleekMom
Summary: Part 1 of Ready to Fly Series: Blaine's Coming Out Story. He knew it wouldn't be good. He didn't know how bad it would get. WARNINGS INSIDE.


**Author's Note:**

**One of my lovely readers of Way Out, _squiggle . giggle_ asked if I would ever write the violent episodes between Blaine and his father that I imagine. I said that I wouldn't, but once the seed was planted, I could not help but actually write it. And once written, I could not help but ask momaboutown if I should post it. And she told me I had to. So here it is. This coming out story lives in the world of Running Away/Caught/Hold On/Way Out. It precedes all. Blaine is 13 or 14 years old.**

**WARNING for physical abuse/violence. Please be safe reading this if they are triggers.**

* * *

Blaine finished clearing the dining room table from dinner and his mother sent him out to the living room to spend time with his father. Blaine didn't want to, but his mother always insisted that despite the tightness in the pit of his stomach, it was important that they spend time together. His father hadn't been the same since returning from the war, but Blaine supposed no one ever was. On days like today he wished Cooper was still around, but his older brother had made himself very scarce since his father's return, calling infrequently and never when he thought the Colonel would be home. Cooper and their mother remained close, but neither she nor Blaine ever told him of how his father had changed.

And his father had changed. The yelling behind closed doors was no different than before, but now he sometimes heard things breaking and his mother's voice had turned from anger to fear. He could sometimes hear the sound of her being pushed against the wall and once he was nearly certain his father had struck her. The dread Blaine had always felt toward his father when he'd done something wrong grew constant. Because Blaine was also discovering that he himself had changed and he knew his father wouldn't like it.

Blaine was now learning that in his father's eyes he had not only _done_ something wrong but he _**was**_ something wrong. All of his friends were constantly talking about girls and going from girlfriend to girlfriend. At a recent Bar Mitzvah of one of his best friends, the DJ's scantily clad dancers surrounded the boys, all of whom ogled the women. Blaine instead eyed the handsome DJ, growing hot with a mixture of desire and shame. Another boy at school, Derek, had recently come out as gay, giving a name to everything Blaine felt and he searched the internet. He knew he shouldn't be ashamed. He knew it was ok. And yet it didn't stop the fear he felt around his increasingly violent father who was openly critical of people just like him. He knew what his father would think. He feared what his father would do.

Still, he'd been raised to embrace who he was. Cooper had pushed him to be proud and the Colonel had taught him to stand up for himself, not to run and not to let others push him around. It was bitter irony that the one he most needed to stand up to was his own father.

The naturally imposing man sat on the large couch reading and his mother followed Blaine into the room, sitting in the armchair, encouraging him to sit next to his father. Blaine hesitated, turning to the dining table to straighten up a little more rather than sit beside the Colonel. But there was only so much he could do before his avoidance was obvious and he turned back to join his parents.

"So I heard at the PTA meeting today that three or four of the girls have invited you to the Sadie Hawkins dance," Blaine's mother said with a smile. "Have you decided who you're going to go with yet?"

Blaine froze in place, standing within the space between the dining room table and the coffee table that separated himself from the Colonel, who had glanced up from his book to hear his son's response. The judgment on his father's face swam before Blaine's eyes as the blood in his head drained and his heart raced with anxiety. He wondered if he was dying because breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. He watched both his parents staring at him expectantly for an answer and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I was thinking about asking someone myself," he said with shaky breath.

His mother chuckled. "It's a Sadie Hawkins dance, Blaine," she explained gently. "The girls are supposed to ask the boys."

Blaine's eyes dropped to the floor as terror overtook his entire body and he struggled not to shake, but it was now or never and he didn't think never was an option he could live with. His mouth was dry and he licked his lips. "I was thinking of asking a boy," Blaine nearly whispered.

His father stood, leaving his book on the couch and walked, slowly and deliberately, around the coffee table to stand in front of Blaine. Blaine had been trained to look his father in the eye and he did so now though what he truly wanted to do was run out the door and never come back. "As friends," his father clarified, staring at his son intently, in what was more a statement than a question. "You were thinking of asking this boy to go with you as friends. Stag."

Blaine wasn't sure how he was still on his feet, with the power of his father's stare causing his knees to buckle and he wondered if this is what an impending heart attack felt like. He still had a choice now though. His father had given him a way out. Tell him yes, as friends, and his father would step back to the couch and go back to his book as if the conversation never happened. And Blaine would go back to hiding who he was for another day. It would be so easy.

His eyes shifted to his mother, and she sat rigid in her seat, transfixed to the scene before her, the panic evident. She knew. She knew about him, though he didn't know how or when, and her eyes begged him to keep it from his father, keep the secret just as he kept hers from Cooper. But her secret was hers to keep, and his was his to tell, and today was the day, damn the consequences.

"No, Sir." Blaine looked up defiantly at his father whose eyes blazed. "Not as friends. As a date."

There was a moment when time stood still. And then he felt himself be flung backwards. He felt the back of his head hit the dining room chair as he skidded against the floor before he even felt the sharp stinging on his cheek. Tears flooded his eyes as his father stepped closer and over him.

"Get up," his father ordered and experience had taught Blaine to do what he was told and quickly.

Blaine's eyes closed as his father grabbed his arm and threw him face down over the dining room table. Blaine folded his arms underneath his forehead, the tears soaking his shirt until they pooled beneath him on the smooth hardwood as he waited for what he knew was to come. The sounds of the metal clink of the buckle, then the hiss of leather being released from its hold, reverberated in his ears.

He heard the terrifying swish through the air before he felt the sting but once it started it seemed never ending. Had he earned it, as Cooper had on occasion throughout his youth, his emotions may have been different. But he had done nothing wrong to deserve this. The rage that stood behind every blow turned Blaine's fear into hate and his pain into resolve. He refused to let this be his defining moment. Any respect he'd felt for his father before disappeared and was replaced with contempt.

When it was finally done and his father stood him up and turned him face to face, their eyes met and fire met fire. Blaine said nothing.

"You will not mention this again. You will not bring that _**filth**_ into this house," the Colonel spat. "And if you choose to go to this dance with your little boyfriend, today will pale in comparison to what awaits you when you get home, is that understood?"

Blaine understood completely. "Yes, Sir," he answered.

"Go to your room. I don't want to see you anymore," the Colonel demanded.

Blaine climbed the stairs, every step hurting more than the last. He stopped himself from slamming his bedroom door at the last moment, knowing it would only invite more trouble. He kept the light off and fell face first down onto his bed, fully clothed. His tears were exhausted, there were none more to flow. He tried just to sleep, but he couldn't sleep. He reached for his cell phone, given to him so that his parents could always keep track of him, and hit the speed dial. His brother answered on the first ring.

"Hey Blaine, nice to hear from you," Cooper said cheerfully. "What's up, you alright?"

Blaine winced as he shifted in his bed and lied to his brother. "I'm fine, I just can't sleep. Can you sing to me?"

"Sure, Squirt," Cooper answered, worry in his tone but never seeking more.

Blaine closed his eyes and allowed himself be lulled to sleep by his brother's voice, his world changed forever.

It was the last phone call he and Cooper had for a long time. The dance was three weeks later and Blaine and Derek had both ended up in the hospital by the time the bullies were done with them. Despite his broken arm and bruised ribs, his father made due on his promise as soon as he arrived home. Cooper didn't come to visit him. Cooper didn't call. Blaine transferred to Dalton, and Blaine did not give him the phone number. When Cooper came to see his shows with the Warblers, Blaine was completely different. He had learned to shut off his emotions and thoughts, hiding his pain behind a confident and dapper mask.

Until one day an angel descended a staircase and his world changed again. This time for good.


End file.
